Thursday, May 26, 2022

Sunday School Jesus

 You guys that have taught kids in Sunday school... You know how you invest so much time in studying; in imagining ways to tell the story that will reach their little hearts and show them how it can be effective in their lives today; verbally paint them a picture of the beauty of Jesus; creating a craft that will reinforce the lesson and it's application? Maybe even creative reenactments, songs, art? Remember that? 

Now do you remember how at the end of class you would ask a few questions to see what they kept from all that investment in their little hearts and minds? Think back -- what was, no matter the question, the most oft given answer?

"Jesus." 

I'm not kidding. 90 times out of 100, "Jesus." Of the 10% remaining, most of those are either what? ..."Sin" or "The Bible."

Was that frustrating? All that time. All the truth they could walk away with. All the lessons. All the ways that lesson could bring life changing truth. 

"Jesus." 

Why, do you think that is? 

Here's my thought:

Jesus is the BIG answer. Always. We know that and we taught them that. It's true. But it's also often the lazy answer.

There are a million different ways we can creatively apply the wisdom of our scriptures, of following Jesus, being a good citizen and a loving neighbor. We can almost 100% know that when we keep falling back on our answer to everything being, "Jesus" or "The Bible," or "sin," we've chosen the lazy way rather than the creative way, the deeper way.

This is what I feel like I'm seeing among entirely too many Christians around racial justice, justice reform, gun control, equal rights. We are given so much beauty and creativity and depth in scripture and in the life and ways of Jesus. So much truth in how to walk out justice and mercy and peace. Detailed accounts in the Sermon on the Mount of what it could look like. Right here. Right now. Not just in the sweet by and by.

All of that, and we reduce everything to, "Jesus."

Yes. JESUS. But how? Where? Toward who? What does it look like - right. now? We've lost all creativity and imagination. "Just Jesus" is the lazy way out. Both are truth. Which one will take us to deeper change that brings His Kingdom? That allows all to flourish? That allows us to live in abundance rather than scarcity?

When it's ten year-olds in Sunday school, we've got some time, the stakes aren't so high. But now? Losing our spiritual imagination has much graver consequences. It's brought us innocent people languishing in prison, dead kids with Skittles in their pockets or a violin in their backpack, scores of dead school kids, LGBTQ kids with astronomical suicide rates. We cannot afford lazy answers.

We must do better. Sunday School Jesus is true. But He means for us to go so much deeper.

Wednesday, May 25, 2022

Eighteen

Eighteen. 

Eighteen of our babies ate their cereal, maybe complained it wasn't the right one.

Eighteen of our babies rubbed sleep from their eyes, rushed and laughed and whined and played. They likely tested their parents' patience getting out the door.

Then eighteen of our babies hugged their Mamas and Daddys before heading into their classrooms.

And they will never see them again. 

Eighteen.

My kids' babies will be in an elementary school this Fall.

My daughter is in a classroom every. day.

Many of my friends spend every single day in a classroom. Their kids are in a classroom. Every. Single. Day.

I'm honestly sick of our thoughts and prayers. As if God cares to hear our prayers when we care nothing for peace and justice and mercy.

I'm sick of legislators that do absolutely nothing. That flatly refuse to step across the aisle and have real conversations. Too busy posturing and spewing hate, creating chaos rather than working toward peace. No time for actual problems, we've got imaginary ones to keep in the spotlight.

I'm sick of lobbyists more concerned about profits than our babies. Than our elders.

I'm sick of us.

It's not my church. 

It's not my fault.

Not my neighborhood grocery store. 

Not my kids' school. 

Not my son.

Not my daughter.

Not my movie theater. 

Not my problem.


But it is my right!

And, by God, it's my gun!


When will it matter enough to DO. SOMETHING?

What is the magic number? I pray to God that number is eighteen.